


My path

by Zithro



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:23:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8782858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zithro/pseuds/Zithro
Summary: This is the story of an Argonian who has been through mysterious conflict and injured to the point of causing amnesia to the character who can't remember their name, who they were, or their purpose. They will make friends and enemies, lose and win fights, and struggle to find themselves and their path.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story is nowhere near complete and may under go serious changes throughout it's development.  
> ... represents time passing or an area where filler will be added.  
> X represents an indecision about something in the story.
> 
> Currently just a pilot!   
> Let me know what you think, and opinions will influence how the story plays out. Please keep it PG as well.
> 
> This is not specifically about romance, and I'm not adding any "sexy" scenes to my story at this time...

PRE-STORY  
Page X  
Chapter X  
Character Name: X  
Gender: Male  
Age: XX  
Personality: Confused, Caring, Cautious, Clever, Loner, Adventurous  
Profession: X

 

PILOT:  
When I open my eyes, all seems so normal. Quickly the feeling fades, as I lurch forward sitting up halfway in my warm sleeping bag…was it mine? The room I lay in seems familiar, but how can I feel this way, I’ve never seen it…right? I don’t remember. Where am I? Who…am I, I think. My eyesight is still adjusting to the rooms lack of lighting, no candles are lit but appear on various shelves scattered around the room, their silver holders illuminated in the light creeping under the only door visible to me. My head aches, and I lift my hand up to feel for what is causing the pressure on my head. I accidentally move some cloth from my forehead, it shifts and a small amount of pain is relieved. If there were bandages on my head, then it must be that I cannot remember from some sort of blunt injury. What happened to me and who would want to hurt me? Was I…am I a criminal? There’s just too much for me to ponder, so I lay back down in pain.  
…  
…  
Footsteps. Approaching feet, and attached to someone whom I do not know. A question forgotten, but not to blame for my development of amnesia, but my foolishness. Who brought me here and why did they help me? The feet walk on hollow floor boards, getting louder quickly, but still sound soft like the feet of a thief, patting just behind the door to my left. The sounds stop and the light dims under the door a moment. It occurs to me that if the person or persons who’ve taken care of me for who knows how long have done this, they might not be interested in harming me. I have no memories, therefore nothing to lose and I manage a somewhat raspy half whisper. “Who’s there?..” For a few moments, there is no sound, no acknowledgement to what I ask. Instead, I hear the patter of feet fade away as the person leaves the door to walk back the way they came. I sit back up, and grab the back of my skull in pain but continue to rise until I’m in a somewhat hunched stance, on both feet, and before I know it I’ve managed to stumble to the door. “Hello?” I yell. “Please, where am I? I’m so confus-“. Before managing to finish my sentence the door has swung open, a figure entirely black before me, and I am quickly blinded by a wall of light. I fall forward, with my forearm over my eyes, and before I hit the ground, I’m suddenly leaned over a shoulder, and helped back to my feet. The being slings my arm around their back and carefully walks me to a chair at a table in the back of the room, somewhere I hadn’t been able to clearly make out. They remove my arm from their shoulder and help me balance just beside the table, then backing away She says “Sit down, we need to talk”.

ADD FILLER HERE

…  
“The girl lies to you.” The man says. “She just tries to protect you from what you already know!”. “And what would that be?” I ask. “You’re a criminal, a thief. You’re a bandit and a traitor at that, nothing but a lowlife skeever.” He shouts at me, obviously not trying to seem quiet to the girl who walked down the hall. Perhaps they have two different opinions about me, although she certainly makes it hard to figure out what her thoughts are, none the less she cared for me.


End file.
